Mr. Hatfield casually pointed out that the logs formed a natural bridge, adding: “Almost as if they had been laid deliberately.”
“They do at that!” the sportsman agreed. “Let’s have a closer look.”
While Mr. Hatfield and the Cubs waited on dry land, he waded out to examine the accumulation of debris. When he returned to the group a few minutes later, his expression was grim.
“You’re right, Mr. Hatfield,” he declared. “I’m convinced those logs were placed deliberately. Apparently, more has been going on here than I suspected!”
“Any chance to dislodge them?” the Cub leader questioned.
“Not without a crew of men. But a stick of dynamite would do the trick. I think Saul Dobbs has some locked up in the tool house.”
While the Cubs waited, the two men started back to the house to obtain the dynamite.
“What I can’t figure, is why anyone would go to the trouble of making a log bridge at this particular point,” Dan said, frowning as he watched the water spill over the makeshift dam. “Farther up stream, there’s a perfectly good foot bridge.”
“This section is near the restricted part of the woods,” Brad commented. “Mr. Silverton keeps his best Germain pheasants there. And say! I wonder if they’re safe?”
“The water’s backing up fast in that direction,” Red observed.